Miles Deep in the Ground
by LlamaSocks
Summary: John is a citizen of Prospit. One day, a giant storm leads him to the discovery of a mysterious hole in the ground. A series of stupendously idiotic actions lead to John ending up in a strange city with no idea what to do, or where to go. An odd group of friends come to John's aid, and with their help, John may just stand a chance. (Second try at fanfiction, let's see how it goes)
1. Chapter 1

Your name is John Egbert, and though you may be freezing cold and trapped under a tree during a raging storm, it isn't doing a thing to dampen your mood! You and your cousin Jade had spent the entire day in Downtown Prospit with your best buddy Karkat! You'd visited a ton of the shops, trying on ridiculous clothes, stuffing yourselves silly in a restaurant for lunch, and occasionally getting kicked out of shops when Karkat couldn't censor himself. While you were having an amazing time, you had decided to wrap up your hangout session when the sun started creeping under the horizon—your dad was never happy if you were late for dinner.

Anyways, you and Jade live near each other, so you had both said farewell to Karkat and headed home together. Five minutes into your walk, and a giant storm had appeared out of nowhere, starting with heavy sheets of rain attacking both of you. You had kept walking, managing to pace halfway through a shortcut (the local park) when there was a monstrous clap of lightning and Jade had yanked you under the nearest tree. Now, you're soaked to the bone and shivering. Both of your phones had died hours ago, wasted on taking tacky videos of doing things like putting stupid hats on Karkat. You hope your dad understands why you're going to be late for dinner.

You and Jade have been standing in a comfortable silence for a while now, and you're itching to do something to warm yourself up from the chill that's creeping up your spine. You prod at Jade, hoping for a reaction.

"What're you doing, John?"

"I'm bored. Entertain me." She gets a devious look on her face when you say this. That can't be good.

"Okay then!"

With this statement, she shoves you from underneath your momentary shelter and back into the rain. You gasp as the cold water seeps down your face and neck, but you quickly come to your senses and realize that the only acceptable response to Jade's action is sweet, sweet _revenge_. Your eyes lock onto your target, who is currently racing for cover behind the tree. You sprint to catch up and give her a taste of her own medicine. Turning sharply around the tree, you manage to take one giant stride and then trip on a root and fall flat on your face. This is pretty disorienting, to say the least.

What takes up the majority of your attention though, is the fact that about a foot from your face you can see the gaping entrance to a hole, partially hidden beneath fallen branches. It's a foot or two wider than your shoulder-width, and it looks impossibly deep. From what you can tell, it goes straight downwards, with no slope whatsoever. You're still staring when Jade appears from around the tree and spots you on the ground. Being the concerned cousin she is, she laughs at you and skips around merrily. She's still prancing when she realizes that something has caught your eye; she follows your gaze to focus on the hole. She finally goes silent.

You've decided you've spent long enough soaking mud into the front of your bright yellow Prospitian shirt. Getting up, you spot Jade kicking the branches aside and creeping up to the mysterious gap. She has a stick in her hand.

"What the hell are you trying to—"

She tosses the stick into the hole, and leans forward to listen. There's a stretch of silence before either of you hear the clattering below. Jade lets out a low whistle. Your suspicions that this hole is deep are confirmed, apparently.

The playful mood you both had minutes ago has diminished and has been replaced with growing curiosity. You wonder if anyone else has found this tunnel before. You're still pondering when Jade taps you on the shoulder. In a mock whisper, she says,

"Hey. Hey John!" You roll your eyes, but decide to humor her and whisper back in an equally goofy whisper.

"Yeah, Jade?"

"I dare you to stick your head in that hole!"

"What? That's stupid, Jade!"

"Aw, c'mon! The hole's RIGHT THERE, we're bored, and I'd be there to grab you the entire time!"

"That doesn't make it any less stupid!"

"Aw, is John a fraidy-cat?"

"I'm not afraid!"

"What was that? I don't speak wuss!"

You know she's trying to egg you on, and it's working. She's tauntingly sticking her tongue out at you and _how the hell are you two even related you're way more mature than her_. You're fighting the urge to prove to her you're not a wimp… and miserably failing. Practically fuming, you stomp over to the tunnel and get on your hands and knees. You lean forward and poke your head in, then shout as loudly as possible,

"JADE IS AN EVIL WITCH WITH THE MATURITY OF A TEN-YEAR-OLD!"

You're swinging your head up to give Jade a satisfied smirk when your hands slide, slippery with mud. They shoot right into the gap, and all of your weight pitches you forward headfirst. You would laugh about falling twice in the span of ten minutes, but you're too busy letting out a startled cry. Behind you, you hear a shriek accompanied with an iron grip around your foot.

This is a position you never expected to be in; upside-down with your hands scrabbling against the sides of a deep dark hole for purchase while your cousin grips your shoe- which is your only chance of not falling into what seems like an endless tunnel. Neither you nor Jade had considered the mud and rain, and now you're paying the goddamn price. You can already imagine reading what the headlines of tomorrow's newspaper will say: "John Egbert, Raging Idiot, Falls Down Hole After Accepting Dare and Dies". Your head is pounding and you feel like throwing up. Instead, you squeeze your eyes closed and pant for breath before shouting,

"DON'T LET GO!"

You know that this precarious moment won't last. Even now, you know that Jade's losing her grip on you; her hands are slick with sweat and rainwater.

All the pressure of her hold is focused on the tip of your foot, and suddenly, it vanishes. What little hold you had on the walls of the tunnel is gone with the force of gravity pulling you down. You're letting out a string of curses but it's lost with the rush of air hurtling into your already-dry mouth. You can hear Jade screaming, though the dull light of the cloudy, almost-dark sky above is now only a pinpoint. As your last glimpse of the sky disappears with a wink, you fleetingly wonder about what you were going to have for dinner tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

Your name is John Egbert and _why the hell can you not breathe you need air oh god oh god oh god._ You can't feel your body either, but that alarming thought is being blocked out by your brain shouting that it needs AIR, AIR, AIR.

Oh… heh, you guess in your mental panic you actually forgot to _try inhaling._ You slowly take in a shaky breath that rattles strangely in your chest, but all those annoying alarm bells going off in your head finally shut down. You feel like you've been trampled by a stampede, but hey, whoopee, you survived! Well, you think you did… You could be in some dark, gloomy afterlife- okay, time to stop contemplating where this train of thought is headed, and figure out what your situation is!

You've been faced with a wall of black in the vision department, and it takes you a moment to realize that that's because your eyes have been closed for however long you've been lying around. Prying them open is the equivalent of a mental marathon, and once you've succeeded you are faced with more darkness. Did you suddenly go blin—wait, no, you're facedown with your nose rubbing against the ground so of course you can't see. The numbness you were experiencing is creeping away, and an unbearable soreness all over has just arrived. You let out a groan and _hey, you can do that now, yay!_

It could've been seconds, minutes, or hours before you decided to roll over. It hurts like crazy, but you manage to shift to your right side. While you had apparently survived the fall, unfortunately, your glasses hadn't. Cracks take up a majority of your sight, and you slide your glasses off and stuff them into a pocket. Everything is blurry, but it's better than nothing.

What's in front of you is confusing, and your brain is racing as it tries to decipher what it sees. You're in a cavern of sorts, with a ground stretching out in front of you, and a ceiling that dips up and down like waves. You shift your head to look directly above you. You must be extremely lucky, because your entrance to this new world is located at a point where the ceiling dips less than ten feet above the ground. That paired with your desperate act of clawing at the walls as they slowly narrowed to shoulder-width slowed you down enough to reward you with not being flattened to a pancake on impact. Just thinking about this makes you let out another shuddery breath. On another note, as much as you love lying down you really need to sit up.

Your body doesn't seem to agree, but eventually it complies. You prop your arms behind you to support yourself, but a jolt of pain races through your left arm and you yank it up to hold it to your chest. _Mental note: do not use that arm._ You really hope it's not broken. To take your mind off this new piece of information, you scoot until you're turned around. Are those… trees? Though your sight is blurry, you're pretty sure those are trees in front of you. This doesn't make any sense, considering how far underground you must be, and also how the hell does a tree survive down here without sunlight? This question is never going to be answered probably, so you might as shrug and move on.

It still hasn't come crashing down on you that you're stuck here with no way to return to the life and people you love. Your body's autopilot is taking the reins; your brain is doing only what it must, but it is keeping emotions out of the equation. You'd prefer to keep it this way for as long as possible. How on Earth could you accomplish anything to survive if you kept turning into a sobbing mess over your family? Then again, can you even survive down here? Wait, this is getting depressing again, stop it brain, just stop it.

You've been so deeply lost in your thoughts that you only now realize that you somehow against all odds came to be standing upright. You know you want to start moving, but in what direction? Shuffling around slowly in order to keep your head from spinning, you notice something strange. Peeking above the top of some trees, you can see a light blinking on and off. Your feet make the decision for you. You begin to stumble in its direction.

Your tongue is cotton, your feet are lead, and there's unpleasant static in your head making it hard to keep focused. You don't even know if you're headed in the right direction anymore. Towering trees and a not-so-great vision have come to be your downfall. Still, you're trying your best. Grim determination to find the source of that light is the only thing keeping you up and moving, but you're not sure for how much longer. The darkness makes it hard to navigate this forest, and your face and legs are suffering from hitting so many things. Speaking of which, your foot has just made the acquaintance of a lovely rock, and hey, look, it's the third time today you've ended up with your nose in the dirt (you swear you aren't usually this clumsy).

Eh, it's more comfortable down here anyways. You're breathing in dirt, which makes your lungs and throat itch, but you don't have enough energy to cough. Maybe you can get away with closing your eyes for a few minutes because holy hell you are exhausted_._ Yes, this sounds like a perfect idea. Your eyes close when you hear the sound of crunching _wait what?_ Are those footsteps? Oh, you can hear voices now! The heaviness in your body is momentarily forgotten as you tilt your head sideways to see two pairs of legs approaching. They stop a few feet away. The noise of relief you let out of your mouth would make you want to strangle yourself if you had actually cared at that moment.

There's a pause of silence until a distinctly male voice says in a monotone,

"Dude, you look like shit."

Then your vision darkens and it's lights out.


	3. Chapter 3

You really need to stop passing out; this is getting ridiculous. Who knows how long it's been since you mentally checked out, either way you're finally coming back to the land of the conscious. Your senses are mercifully muffled from grogginess. Still, you can hear at least two voices speaking in hushed whispers on either side of you. You're not one to be sneaky, but since you have no idea who these people are, or why they stuck around for you, maybe it's best if you learn a bit about them before signaling that you're awake.

You realize suddenly that your head is lolling, and that you can feel your feet dragging against the ground. Okay… Why the hell are these people dragging you? Where are they taking you? More uneasiness settles in your stomach. Listening in on their conversation only makes you more confused.

"You understand that we need to get help, correct? Though you are quite capable in a variety of situations, I believe this may be a bit more than either of us can handle." This voice sounds female. It's calm and collected, a polar opposite to its partner, who replies. You've already heard the second speaker's voice once before. Now that you're more awake, you can hear a slight drawl as he speaks.

"Dude, I'm not that dumb. As much as I hate to stop your sensational jack-off to the analyzing of my 'independent spirit,' or whatever the hell you call it, I know when something's too big to deal with on my own. And Houston, we have a major fucking problem." There's a moment of silence before he continues, "The other guys will probably be more than happy to help."

"It's a delight to know that you agree. Though, next time don't interrupt me while I'm pleasing myself. There aren't many things to get off on these days, and you know how attracted I am to this 'analytical bullshit,' as you dubbed it." Woah, she's heavy on the sarcasm. Your other captor (you guess?) snorts before speaking again.

"Di-Stri and Rolal—" it takes all your willpower not to laugh out loud when he says this, _why would anyone want to be called that_, "-will probably piss themselves in excitement when they see our new pal, they've got no common sense when it comes to danger. Then again, none of us do. Anyways… How much further until we get to the town? We've been walking for what, half and hour, and this guy isn't getting any lighter."

He emphasizes this by jostling you and it seems that the ache you had been experiencing prior to your dramatic blackout didn't stop being a thing. Before you can stop yourself you let out a gasp. Damn it, your cover's been blown. You jerk to stand upright and flail your arms around until you are released, then you take several paces backwards. Your left arm doesn't appreciate the action, and it takes everything to stop from wincing. _Show no weakness, John. Show no weakness. _

"Looks like somebody decided to stop impersonating Roxy during a hangover."

"Wha—"

"Ignore him. I would apologize for you being given such a rude awakening, but you honestly were getting rather heavy. Do you think you can walk?"

"Uh, sure, but I'm not going anywhere until someone explains what you two are doing—"

There's a flash and suddenly you're being pressed against a tree with someone's warm breath heating up your throat. The male portion of your kidnapping duo is pushing against you and for some reason the only question in your mind is about why he's wearing shades when it's already so dark down here. You open your mouth to ask when he slaps his hand over it and mouths for you to _SHUT. UP_.

You can almost imagine him seeing the countless question marks floating above your head when a twig snaps nearby. Then there's muttering. You don't know whether to push this guy off you and run towards the sound of voices (they could possibly help you), or stay here with these crazy people and see what happens. Your muscles are tensing when the other boy mouths something to you again, but this time it's a different message. _TRUST ME. _He looks like he's pleading. It takes you a second to nod your head a minimal amount. Something about his face screams desperation—not for himself, but for you. He's dragged your butt this far, so you might as well do him a favor and stick around.

The mutters are getting closer, and it sounds like a large group of people. You can pick out some of the words being said.

"Are you sure that—"

"Didn't you hear him shouting?"

"There was a sighting—"

"—God-awful bright yellow shirt, it's got to be—" You glance down at your soiled Prospitian shirt. _Wait… Are they talking about YOU?_

"—We need to find him, she'll get pretty pissy if we don't."

"Let's try going this way."

The voices fade off, and you let out a giant breath you hadn't known you'd been holding. The other guy clears his throat before grabbing the hem of your shirt and starting to pull it off. Well, you guess it's in both of your best interests to get this thing off, now. That crowd didn't sound like they were there to be your welcoming committee.

You help him by lifting your arms, proud of yourself when let out only a miniscule whine as the shirtsleeve catches on your bad limb. The boy doesn't say anything about it, so you think he didn't notice. Great, now you're not only down a pair of glasses, but a shirt as well. You hope you aren't going to lose your pants in the near future, too.

What's-his-name peers out from behind the tree and in a hushed tone calls out, "Rose! You there?" There's some rustling and the girl—you mean Rose steps out and brushes herself off.

"I'm fine. No reason to get your undergarments in a twist, David. I am more than capable in those kinds of situations."

"Oh, fantastic, apparently such a close call didn't even slightly knock down that snarky-broad attitude."

You step out from your hiding place in hopes of stopping the banter before it actually begins. Their gaze switches over to you, and they settle down, thank god.

"So… Can either of you guys explain why there are people looking for me?" Wow, your voice is wavering all over the place, this is embarrassing. The two look over at each other and seem to come to a silent agreement. Rose steps forward and places a hand on your right shoulder.

"I hate keeping you in the dark, but everything is rather uncertain at the moment and we'd prefer to get you somewhere not quite as dangerous before explaining this entire mess. " You hold back a sigh, you want answers, but it seems you won't be getting them for a while.

"I don't believe we ever had a formal introduction, though I guess there wasn't really time for one in the first place. Anyways, I'm Rose Lalonde, and this is my cousin, Dave Strider." Dave casually tilts his head up in a greeting, as if he hasn't already broke the ice by pressing you up against a tree and bursting your personal bubble.

"Um, well, I'm John Egbert! Nice to meet you guys, I guess." You pause, wait a moment, and then keep going. "I know you're not going to be answering many of my questions right now, but can you at least tell me where I am, exactly?"

Rose opens her mouth to answer but Dave beats her to the punch.

"Welcome to Derse, land of the purple pajama-clad dickheads. Enjoy your stay, bro."


	4. Chapter 4

Those few mental checkouts beforehand are unexpectedly coming in handy, and you're surprisingly energized as you trek through the forest with your two new acquaintances. After your quick conversation a nervous silence had settled on your group. It's so quiet that you almost feel like you could be deaf—but the crunching sounds of leaves underfoot prove otherwise. Dave and Rose have formed a human shield in front of you, which puts a dent in your pride; you're not helpless. You're just disoriented and lost. While they cover your front, you decide to put yourself to use by constantly checking behind you to make sure nothing sneaks up on you. You don't really know what you'd do if you ran into something or someone considering you don't even have a weapon, but you'd think of something.

Focusing on your self-appointed job, you don't notice that the other two have stopped until you run into them. They steady you, and you silently shoot them a look of gratitude. Staring out, you can see that your group has managed to reach the edge of the woods. In front of you there's a little town, which besides being tinged purple (you guess it's not too strange considering every building in Prospit is yellow), is rather unremarkable. There are a few people here and there, hunched over and rushing towards their destinations. No one you can see has noticed you yet, thankfully.

Dave is stepping out when Rose clears her throat and tilts her head in your direction. It's obvious he doesn't get what she's trying to say, judging by the way his shoulders rise up and his hands are in the universal gesture of _what the fuck_. Rose is persistent, this time pointing at your bare torso with more urgency. You still don't get it, and you don't think Dave does either. Rose gracefully places her knuckles on her forehead and quietly mutters,

"Don't you think it would be a little noticeable for John to walk around town without a shirt on? It's late autumn. Dave, you have a jacket. Would you mind handing it over to John? He can zip it up and wear it until we arrive."

You blink; you hadn't even noticed how cold it is down here. All this nervousness and stalking around had distracted you. Apparently Dave hadn't thought about this either; he hadn't offered you anything to compensate for the loss of your shirt after he had helped you take it off (wow that sounds kind of dirty heheh… wait shut up that's stupid). Why hadn't Rose spoken up about this earlier? Whatever, maybe you were all too occupied with worrying to think about it.

Dave quietly removes his jacket and hands it to you. You carefully slip it on and zip it up, relishing in how fuzzy and worn-in it feels on the inside. It's a bit long on your body and tight in the sleeves, but it still feels great. Rose studies you for a moment before requesting that you put the hood up in the hopes of being less conspicuous. She looks everyone over one more time before deciding that you all look socially acceptable. With that, she turns on her heel and casually strolls from the woods and into the town.

You and Dave follow her lead, slouching enough to be considered nonchalant. The calm facade you're upholding occasionally cracks when you stumble over rocks or pavement—you really wish your glasses weren't broken. You get a sharp look or two that spikes your nerves, but your companions seem to take these hostilities with grace. Rose guides you both to a chain of shops ranging from one to two stories high. She opens the door to a slightly shabby-looking building and holds it open as you and Dave stride in. You can smell smoke and alcohol as well as hear the clinking of glasses and low muttering. A few figures slump on tables, quietly sipping drinks. Dave and Rose have led you to a pub.

You're about to scoff and ask if they brought you here to drink away your problems when Rose clasps your hand and pulls you behind a counter. There's a door next to a shelf of drinks, which she quietly opens. This leads to a flight of stairs, which all three of you quickly ascend. You are met with a rather unimpressive room.

The ugly green wallpaper is peeling off. There's a single bed pushed into a corner of the room, and a threadbare sofa placed right in the center. A tiny kitchen table and two wooden chairs are in another corner. Near the bed, a door leading to another room is propped open revealing a toilet, sink, and a shower. Finally, along one wall you can see something that barely resembles a kitchen. The floorboards creak as Dave walks over to throw himself onto the sofa.

Rose stands by you, brushing the nonexistent dust off her dress before saying,

"I guess it is proper to invite you to my sister's humble abode. It may not be lavish, but it is the most convenient place to gather people. Roxy will be up here in a moment; I'm pretty sure she was not so enamored with her martini that she didn't notice our arrival. Closing time is soon, anyways."

She glides over to sit in one of the chairs by the table. You decide to follow suit, and settle in your chair with an ominous creak.

"So are you going to explain—"?

"Let's wait until Roxy arrives, I'd prefer having others to fill in any empty holes I may leave when explaining your situation."

"Uh, okay then." Usually you'd keep pressing until you got what you wanted, but Rose's tone was sharp enough to shut you up, yet sympathetic enough to know she wasn't going to leave you in the dark for long.

You don't like the lack of conversation, though. You've always considered yourself talkative, but something about the demeanor down here makes you feel like there's a weight in your chest and speaking too loudly will only mean trouble. So you bear with this quietness. Minutes pass and you tap your feet to a tune your father taught you on the piano when you were younger. A burst of homesickness rushes through you, but the familiarity of the piece is worth it. Little sounds of hushed chatter and footsteps wafting from downstairs gradually disappear until there's no noise at all.

Everyone in the room is jolted to attention when the stairs begin to creak. The door is flung open and a singsong voice calls out, "Roooosiiiieeeeeeee!" before a blonde-headed girl peeks her head in. The voice cuts off for a moment before transforming into a squeal so loud you have to refrain yourself from covering your ears. She rushes over to you, places a hand on your shoulder, and leans in close enough that you can smell the martini on her breath. She slurs as she says,

"Damn Rosie, where'd you pick up this one? Can I just say, _hotttttt_." You can practically hear the extra "t"s she added in that last word. It's flustering to hear such a forward compliment and your cheeks are bright red. Spluttering for a response, you look over for a little help to see Rose with her hand covering her mouth to keep from laughing, and Dave wearing the biggest smirk you've ever seen. Oh, so you're alone in this. Great.

"I'm Roxy Lalonde, though y'can call me whatever the hell works for ya. Lalonde, 'Londe, Rox, Rolal, Roxy, _Foxy_." She winks, you choke on your own spit. "ANYWAYS, I can't help but notice that you're looking pretty upset there…" Her nose is almost touching yours, oh god. She grins and squints her eyes; her face is filling up your vision. "Tell Mama Roxy what's the problem-o and I can make it all go _awaaaaaay._"

You sure hope she can.


End file.
